Good Girl Gone Bad
by twerri02
Summary: As part of Damon's cover he ends up agreeing to the task that Sheriff Forbes gives him - supervising the delinquents serving their community sentences. Among them is a particularly frustrating brunette that is new to the town and burdening secrets. Can Damon see past his ego to see that the rebellious act is just another mask? Will Bella drop the mask and finally let someone in?


**CHAPTER 1: FIRST TIME**

Urgh, I can't believe I'm here.

Scratch that – I can't believe I had actually agreed to this.

Maybe I was just getting too good at lying that I lose the part of my brain that turned off my mask. There had to be some explanation as to why my idiotic brain had led me into agreeing into helping the Sheriff. When I said I would do 'anything', I didn't literally mean anything.

Instead of handing me another animal attack case, she had me wasting my weekend, looking after a bunch of wannabe rebel children.

The only reason I had agreed to it, was because I needed to be good. I needed to gain her trust and have an in with the council.

…oh the lengths I go to…

Then again, if I looked on the Brightside, I could say that it was a good excuse to distract me. The past few days hadn't exactly helped me walk on sunshine, so maybe this would hel- Oh who am I kidding? This was going to be terrible.

This was confirmed when I stepped down the steps and caught sight of the familiar police man – a friend of the Sherriff, I believe. "You're late" he grumbled and stepped off the desk, handing me a beige manila folder.

I bit down of my tongue and clenched my fists by my side to stop myself from ripping the idiot's head off.

Before I could get a word in edgeways, he pointed to the exit door behind him. "The little devils are outside, by the benches" he directed and went back to eating his donuts and drinking his coffee.

I fell back onto the wall and sighed tiredly.

I should just leave.

Oh come on…man up, Salvatore!

How hard could this be?

**BPOV**

This was fucking unfair!

It had only been three days and I already had a criminal record.

Sure, I could freak out about it, worry about my future and how I'll ever get a publishing job…or I could sit back and finish my cigarette.

The latter was more appealing.

I laid back on the cool grass and looked up, watching as the wisped clouds rolled along the clear blue canvas. My hands were behind my head while the burning Marlboro rested between my lips as I drew in another breath.

"Alright you little jailbirds…"

My head whipped up so fast that I almost choked on the smoke at the sight of the handsome devil incarnate standing by the door.

I pressed my palms behind me, my legs stretched out before me as I continued to study the leather clad James Dean. He was dressed deliciously in all black and his dark ray bans hang on his v-neckline t-shirt. To match his dark appearance, he had a pale alabaster complexion that also contrasted with his sleek black tendrils that loosely fell over his forehead. From where I was sitting, I couldn't make out the colour of his eyes but I imagined something light…a piercing grey perhaps.

Suddenly, those eyes had whipped up to me and I tried to remain nonchalant as I blew out another puff of smoke.

His beauty wasn't undeniable. Dangerously…sinfully…devilishly…handsome.

Could he be our supe?

I was doubtful because he looked young enough to be a youth offender. Then again, he did call us 'jailbirds' so it was safe to say that he was the supervisor.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad…

At least the view would be good.

As my eyes tried to satisfy themselves by roaming up and down his form, I paused to realise that he had been returning the favour.

Pleased by this, I wore an obvious smirk which he soon caught. This had his expression growing sullen and his eyes gravened but I simply raised an eyebrow at him. In response to the challenge, he diverted his gaze to the other 'jailbirds' coming from the changing rooms.

Like them, I too was dressed in the tacky bright orange jumpsuit. At least, I only had the layers of my black tank and denim shorts. I reached down to do the laces of the combat boots before standing up and hopefully introducing myself to my admirer.

As I lifted my head to look up at him, I found that he wasn't across the room and was now standing behind me as his fingers gripped my wrist. In a flash, he had spun me around and I looked up.

Blue…

An intense, penetrating, sharp iced blue with frosty silver flecks wisped from the dilated pupils.

His lips were full, a pale inviting pink that reminded me of pink sherbet. Oh, I'm sure he would taste better than sherbet…

Those lips now parted and his tongue slowly traced his bottom lip and I waited. Like some star-struck girl, I waited for his first words, only to be disappointed, "No smoking" he finally said. I frowned, confused and bewildered as I wondered whether I heard him right. "Didn't you see the sign?" he asked, pointed to the small sign by the building.

And just like that, my Julie Roberts-Richard Gere fantasy moment was broken.

"Didn't care" I replied with a light shrug, simply happy to be back to reality. An easy smirk curving my lips as I challenged him with my headstrong stare.

He let go of my wrist, his eyebrows knitting together as he grumbled. "Now you'll have to" he ordered and I was stunned when he pulled the cigarette away from my lips and dropped it. His eyes were locked onto mine as he stepped on it, putting it out.

Ah…he was another one of those supes – hardhead.

I watched as he calmly shook off my surprise and turned back to the others, that I had all too easily forgotten about. "Right…" he said, looking slightly lost when clapping his hands together. After looking over us, Mr. Hardhead walked towards something and picked up a dirty looking bucket. "Supplies" he said and threw the bucket before us. "Get cleaning" he ordered and simply walked away.

From his total lack of authority and his 'cool' act, I could tell that he was not used to this kind of thing.

Just for his previous little stunt of costing me a cigarette, I decided to wind him up; see how far he could go and what made him tick.

Smoking was one…

Everyone else had begun to pick cleaning supplies from the bucket but I remained where I was. In fact, I dropped down to the grass, pulled down my sunglasses and crossed my legs beneath me. I then began looking for the other pack that must be hidden somewhere in my jacket.

"Did you not hear me?"

I glanced up for my expected visitor. He had his hands crossed over his chest as he towered over me, evidently blocking the sun.

"I heard you" I smiled and relaxed back.

He leaned in closer and I felt the warmth of his breath on my face as he tried to be menacing. "Well then, get to it" he gritted his teeth and clenched his jaw and the penetrating rage had me thankful for the shield of the sunglasses. "Or you can man the toilets instead" he offered smugly and leaned back, waiting impatiently. "…either way, it doesn't bother me"

Well, well, well, a supe with balls.

Angry to have been played, I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt and go along with it. Standing up from where I was, I picked up a brush and placed my earphones in. My iPod shuffle switched on and safely tucked into my front pocket as I began to work off my 760 hours.

A smug, still nameless hardhead now brushed past me, a wide grin on his lips.

Enjoy it while it lasted…

**A/N: I know I'm insane but good insane right?**

**What do you think of a hardhead, authority figure Damon?**


End file.
